


Echoing Notes

by Quandtuniverse



Category: Wandersong (Video Game)
Genre: Aftermath of the world not ending (NOT GOOD OMENS pls dear tag wrangler this is a Wandersong fic), Blanket Permission, Friendship, Gen, Hope, Post-Canon, Reconstruction, The Spirit World (Wandersong), We Saved The World: Now What?, by which i mean im just making stuff up about the spirit world, descriptions of injuries, endings and beginnings, many other characters make brief appearances, musical metaphors, post-apocalyptic reconstruction, theoretical theology, they/them Bard (Wandersong)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:07:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28142862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quandtuniverse/pseuds/Quandtuniverse
Summary: The world was ending, until it wasn’t. It's the dawn of a new era, and the Bard would love to just enjoy their continued existence, but something isn't quite right. As it turns out, averting an apocalypse has some metaphysical consequences...
Relationships: Bard & Eyala (Wandersong), Bard & Miriam & Eyala (Wandersong), Bard & Miriam (Wandersong)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	1. Rise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lora_Blackmane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lora_Blackmane/gifts).



> Dear giftee, I was so happy to be paired with you! I was really looking forward to writing for this fandom. I hope you don't mind that I poked through your blog a bit—I found we had a lot of headcanons in common, so I did my best to come up with something I thought you would like. I hope you enjoy it, and have a wonderful Yuletide!
> 
> With my greatest thanks to Opal, without whom this fic would literally not have a plot, to Ariel and Alli for the very generous last-minute beta, and to GO Fanfic Book Club for the continued moral support.
> 
> The title comes from "[Ecoando Notas](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V9wCOFLJ8OA)" and the chapter titles from "[Sonho de Uma Flauta](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mH2j56oQefE)", both songs by O Teatro Magico which helped inspire this story. I also took some inspiration from "Flute Dream", a fairy tale by Hermann Hesse.

🎼

The world was ending, until it wasn’t. The sun rose again, against all odds, casting its beams of light across an improbable planet, bathing its inhabitants in the most welcome daybreak. 

The Bard opened their eyes, roused from a deep and dreamless sleep, and for a few moments was unsure of where exactly they were. Their room glowed pink with sunrise, but it had been ages since the last time they’d seen this sight—it felt uncanny, somehow, askew and surreal. The sliver of sunlight peeking through their window crept higher and higher, until it was late morning, but still the Bard did not rise; they lay with their exhaustion, feeling every physical reminder of their journey now catching up to them. Cracked ribs, burnt skin, slightly frostbitten fingertips. The feet that had carried them across continents ached, still enclosed in the boots they hadn't bothered removing before bed. Drained of all the drive that had kept them going, they were left like a violin string drawn overly taut.

They looked aside, to the wall where some of their drawings still hung undisturbed, as if they’d never been at risk of disappearing. There was something so permanent about art, like a little message in a bottle, from a time before it all. 

It was still there. Somehow, this strange world had survived the storm, swaddled in song.

Pushing past their exhaustion, they rose from bed and headed outside, where they were greeted by the sound of birds, the wind in the trees, the rushing water. The view was a new one; not the Langtree they’d grown used to over the past few years, but a landscape now reshaped by the collapse of the Spirit World and the averted apocalypse. The evidence of the end was still everywhere: great big pits where the falling stars had landed, felled trees, even burn marks in the grass. Yet another sign that it hadn’t been all just some overly elaborate dream, quite aside from their aching body. 

The path along the Bard’s house had been overtaken by glowing tree roots, which they recalled from the night before, but now the glow had dissipated, as though they were becoming part of the physical world. As the Bard clambered over them to reach the hill, they felt the warmth seeping off of them, tingling against their hands, vibrating like their chest did when they sang.

Up on the hill, near where it forked off towards the Tree of Slumber, there was nobody waiting to meet them. This was disappointing, but not surprising. Delphi was still quite a trip away, and Miriam had no real reason to go come back so soon, did she? Not if she wanted to rest, or to spend time with her grandma, which would have been well-deserved. The Bard sighed, tried to focus on the present, and headed into the village.

In town, things were strangely quiet. Everyone was busy trying to fix up the houses that had been wrecked by the End of the World, but there was something else, too, a different texture in the air. 

“Good morning, Kiddo!” the Mayor greeted them with her characteristic loudness. “Are you here to help with the reconstruction?”

The Bard briefly assessed their aching body. 

“Just checking in,” they responded in sing-song. “How is everyone doing?”

“Alive and grateful,” said the Mayor. “But the mood is... well, I reckon we’re all grateful, but our kin have moved on again, so we’ve had to say our goodbyes.”

“They didn’t stay?”

The Mayor shook her head. “Unfortunately. It was like they couldn’t keep their forms here, or somethin’ like that. I think they tried to tell us what was happenin’, but without you around to translate… They were gone by morning. We had our time together, though. If their return was a sign of the end times, I reckon it’s better this way, anyway.”

“Oh.” The Bard was thoughtful. “I didn't think it was possible for the ghosts to leave now that the Spirit World collapsed,” they mused. “But maybe there’s a reason for it.”

“Well, I’ll get back to helping my folks,” said the Mayor. “Good to see ya, Kiddo.”

The Bard took some time to greet the rest of the villagers, but couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. Feeling compelled to investigate further, they thought back to the beginning of their journey. Maybe the Tree of Slumber would hold answers. It was a long shot, but it was the only lead they had. 

🎵

Upon reaching the Tree of Slumber the Bard could tell right away something was off. The first time they had come here, there had been a rumbling, something just beyond the tree, which they now recognized as the connection to the Spirit World.

This time the tree stood silent, its leaves fluttering in the wind. There was still something spiritual about it, but lessened, faint. 

Not knowing what else to do, the Bard sang the Overseer Song. The notes came easily, but they couldn’t help but feel a bit unnerved; the last time they’d sung this had been a very different time, when their most serious concern was how to coax a grumpy old lady into teaching it to them, before they had known just how severe the crisis would become...

Song finished, instead of being transported into the Spirit World, there was a flash of light. 

“Hello, Lil’ B!” said a voice giggling like windchimes in the wind. 

“Eyala!” exclaimed the Bard.

“The one and only,” she shrugged, smiling. “So whaddya summon me for?”

“I wasn’t really trying to,” said the Bard. “How come you showed up?”

“Oh, um,” she tilted her head around as though trying to remember why she was there. “Well, the thing is, this world wasn’t really _supposed_ to exist anymore, y’know? This whole thing with the harmonizing and the not-actually-ending-the-universe wasn't supposed to happen this way. So there’s still some... kinks. To iron out.”

“Kinks?”

“Yeah, like... how the Spirit World collapsed too soon, and the Nexus Points are all out of alignment, and the Overseers—” she stopped abruptly. “Oh, but that doesn't really matter. There’s actually a reason why I’m here.

“The thing is, Eya didn't see this coming, and at first she was kinda nervous, but then she got really excited. She was like, ‘Wow!! That lil’ bard totally rocked it!’ and she was curious to learn more about how you did that, so she sent me looking for you...”

“Is that really what Eya sounds like...?”

“And when you sang the Overseer Song, I heard you, so I came!”

The Bard smiled.

“Oh, um, I guess that makes sense!”

“So whatever you need, Lil’ B, I’m here to help you with!”

The Bard considered this.

“Actually, Eyala... could you take me to see Miriam?”

**//**


	2. Wind Dance

🎼

They materialized in Delphi before the Bard even realized it. As soon as they had landed in front of Miriam’s house, Eyala began to shimmer, semi-transparent.

“I’ll just... leave you to it, then,” she said. 

“Wait, are you sure?” the Bard blinked at her in surprise. 

“Yeah, I don't think I’ll be needed here. Go have fun and stuff. I’ll wait for you to be done. Peace!”

Before the Bard could say anything, she had vanished into the wind, carrying away the sound of chimes.

That just left the Bard standing in front of the door to Miriam and Saphy’s house. They sighed a happy sigh. They wanted to see Miriam so badly already, and it hadn't even been that long yet. How surprised would she be? Langtree was quite far from Delphi on foot. 

They knocked.

Saphy answered the door.

“What a surprise!” she said. “Back so soon?”

“Oh! Hi Saphy!” said the Bard, bouncing on their toes. “Is Miriam there?”

“She slept in today,” said Saphy. “Come, come in! Make yourself at home. I know she’ll be very happy to see you.”

The Bard entered, just as Saphy went upstairs to Miriam’s room. Not a few minutes passed and Miriam came down, looking somewhat groggy.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon,” said Miriam.

“Hello to you too!” said the Bard, chipperly. Miriam blushed.

“...Hi.”

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, “just tired.”

“I feel that,” said the Bard, “It’s been a long day and it hasn’t even started yet.”

“Grandma, I’m going out,” Miriam called over her shoulder. Saphy nodded with a knowing smile.

“I’ll see you two later!”  
  


🎵  
  


Outside, the Bard kicked a pile of leaves, scattering them everywhere. “I missed you, Miriam,” they said as the leaves fluttered around them. “It’s nice to be back in Delphi.”

“It’s been, like, half a day,” said Miriam, tapping her foot. “Really, Kiwi, what are you doing here? How did you even get here?”

“Eyala teleported me!”

“What!?”

“Oh, right,” the Bard stopped to think. “There was a whole thing. She said Eya wanted to keep an eye on me...”

“Go figure.”

“...And also she said a bunch of weird stuff about the Spirit World!”

“What kind of weird stuff?”

“I dunno, she didn’t elaborate. But she said there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Well if Eyala says it I’m _sure_ you can trust her,” said Miriam sarcastically. 

The Bard wisely did not answer this.

“Well, whatever, who cares about her,” said Miriam. “I'm glad to see you, I was just worried. I mean—” she caught herself and looked around anxiously. “—I mean, of course you’re fine, we all are, but something just feels... _strange_.”

“Like an unsettling feeling?”

“Yeah, that. It’s like nothing feels exactly real yet.”

“I know what you mean,” said the Bard. The two had started wandering off away from the house, headed in no particular direction. “It’s like there's some sort of... vibe.”

“Vibe?”

“Like, you know, a vibration,” the Bard sang a note and held it for just a moment too long. “Like that.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“Well, it’s there! In all the... _stuff_ that came out of the Spirit World, I don’t know how else to explain it.”

Miriam fell silent. The two of them walked further into the woods, the occasional gust of wind sweeping up swirls of leaves around them.

“I was just thinking...” said the Bard, shuffling their feet in a sort of half-jig as they walked. “what if we didn’t really fix everything?”

“That’s... what I was thinking,” said Miriam, surprised. “I didn’t expect you’d be the one to bring it up.”

“I think we did our best,” said the Bard. “And I’m really happy the world is still here! I am! But I looked around Langtree, and I saw everything that didn’t get fixed, all the stuff that got busted and earth torn up and destroyed, and everyone was fixing their houses and stuff. Even the ghosts left. And I don’t know, it kinda made me feel like I didn’t do enough.”

“Don’t be stupid,” said Miriam. “You literally averted an _entire apocalypse_. What more could you possibly want?”

“Well what about you?” the Bard deflected the question straight back at Miriam. “Why were you thinking we didn’t fix everything?”

Miriam cast her gaze aside. Their walk had led them up the hill, overlooking the town of Delphi. It was a beautiful view, with its many layers of red trees like ocean waves; but even from above, here, it was possible to see the chaos that had wrecked the town below.

“You’re right, as always,” she said. “I got back here after I left you that time, and everything was so different already, I didn’t know how to feel. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized...”

“...That ending the old world meant the new world would’ve been perfect from the beginning, right?”

“Right.”

“But I think it’s okay if the world isn’t perfect,” said the Bard. They sat at the edge of the hill and dangled their legs off the side. Miriam, after a moment hovering next to them, joined them shortly.

“It’s okay, but it does make me wonder,” said Miriam.

“Do you think Eyala will have any answers?”

“I don’t know if I really want to talk to her,” said Miriam. “But sure, if you feel like it.”

“Then I’ll call her after this,” the Bard said, and let the silence hang for just a moment, “but for now I just want to hang out a little.”

“Yeah,” said Miriam. “This is nice.”

🎶

Sometime later they found themselves at the bottom of the Delphi Cave, near the Breathing Crystals. Miriam paced about nervously.

“I wasn’t with you that time,” said Miriam. “This place gives me the creeps. I never really wanted to come down here, so that’s why I made you do it.”

“Oh, it’s really not that bad!” said the Bard. “This Spirit World is fun—well, I guess it _was_ , if it doesn’t exist anymore.”

Much like the Tree of Slumber, the atmosphere around the Breathing Crystals had changed dramatically. Instead of the winds that passed through here the first time around, it was just quiet, vibrating at the same slow pace as the Tree of Slumber had been earlier. 

“The last time all I had to do was sing and Eyala showed up,” said the Bard.

“Joy,” said Miriam, tapping her foot.

“Well, I’ll just get started then.”

The Bard sang the song for the Queen of Winds. With a pang, they remembered she had to be gone now; this song in her honour would never reach her again. They couldn’t help but feel a little bit wistful, recalling the night they had learned the song from Ash. 

“Pretty song,” mumbled Miriam once they were done.

“Yeah,” said the Bard. “You hadn’t heard it before, had you?”

“I can’t help but notice your rainbow friend isn’t here,” said Miriam, ignoring the question entirely.

“Oh,” said the Bard, frowning. “I don’t think I did it wrong...”

“Kiwi,” Miriam started, “Your voice is—”

“Sorry, Lil’ B!” Eyala chimed in, materializing right in between the Bard and Miriam. “I was busy~”

“Busy with what?” asked the Bard before Miriam could protest.

“Angel stuff,” Eyala shrugged noncommittally. 

“Great!” Miriam exclaimed, walking up to where the Bard was and standing next to them, pointedly in front of Eyala. “So glad we cleared _that_ up. Now get talking.”

“Er... What Miriam means is, what was it that you were saying about the Spirit World before?”

Eyala giggled. Miriam's brow twitched. 

“You’ve been busy yourselves, haven’t you?” she said. She turned away from them for a moment, and then back. “Well... Yeah. It's like I said. Things didn't go according to plan. We’ve been doing a lot of... maintenance. Behind-the-scenes stuff. Kinda boring, actually, from a non-cosmological point of—”

Miriam growled.

“Okay, anyway, you get the gist. The thing is, The Spirit World is meant to hold a lot of stuff that keeps the world in order, and when it collapsed, it knocked everything out of balance. The new Overseers are in place, but they’re not linked up with their Nexus Points. That’s why the song doesn't work when you stand here.”

“So, what you’re saying is, we screwed up and everything is bad,” said Miriam.

“No no no!” said Eyala. “The Spirit World is reforming like it’s supposed to. It’s just taking longer, because usually we get to start from a clean slate, but this time there’s a lot of...”

Despite not having any visible eyes, it felt as if she were sweeping her gaze over the two of them.

“...Actually, you know what? I think you can help. I’m supposed to keep an eye on you two, anyways. How about you come with me and I can show you what's going on?”

“That sounds like a great idea!” said the Bard, at the same time as Miriam said, “What?”

“Great!” said Eyala. “I’ll meet you at the next Nexus Point~”

And she disappeared into a breath of sparkles.   
  


“Kiwi,” said Miriam, putting a hand on their shoulder and nudging them away from the crystals. “Are you really saying you’re up to travel the entire world? _Again?_ After we’ve already saved it and literally _just_ got home _yesterday?”_

“Of course!” said the Bard, conveniently ignoring how sore every muscle in their body felt.

“The worst part is I believe you,” she said. “Look, how about this. There’s no time limit this time around. We don’t have to rush to get there. Let’s just keep her waiting, okay? Take some time to rest.”

“But why?”

“It's obvious you’re injured, Kiwi!” she yelled, and the cavern shook with a metallic reverb, like her voice had struck a tuning fork. The Bard lost the nerve that had kept them smiling thus far.

“I’m fine,” they said.

Miriam exhaled.

“I’ll wait for you in town,” she said, and left. The only thing keeping her from stomping her way out was the fact that she was riding her broom.

**//**


	3. Rest

🎼

The Bard danced into Delphi, crooning a tune they’d learned here ages and ages ago. The Town was in shambles, just as Manny and the band had described, but already it showed signs of recovery; the townsfolk seemed content, perhaps frazzled, but at least willing to hang out in public like it was any ordinary day. The Bard stopped by the sweet shop, and the shopkeeper, Jeb, greeted them with the little melody they’d composed. Truth be told, the Bard wasn’t the best at _composing_ music; but they still couldn’t help but feel a spot of pride whenever they came up with something people genuinely enjoyed listening to.

“Howdy, Skipper!” said Jeb. “What brings you here today? Got a new jingle for me?”

“I just wanted something sweet,” they said, hoping their smile wasn’t wavering too much. “How’s the town? I see you’ve rebuilt a lot already...”

“As soon as all the monsters were gone, it became a lot easier to just focus on rebuilding!” he said chipperly. “Hard to believe the world was really ending, wasn’t it? Here, how about you take some of this candy. Don’t worry about paying—the business you brought to my shop was payment enough!”

“Thanks!” The Bard took a lollipop out of the case, and went back to looking around town.  
  


🎵  
  


The Bard looked around for Miriam, but she was nowhere to be found. They started to question if she really had decided to stick around and wait for them in town, or if she’d decided to go back to Grandma Saphy's—but there was another thing they wanted to take care of as long as they were here.

“Ace!!” yelled Manny from across the street.

“Manny! Ash! Viola!” the Bard replied with true earnest joy. 

“Thought ya went home already!” said Manny as the Bard jogged over to catch up with them. 

“I did, but stuff came up.”

“You’re such an adventurer!” sighed Viola. “We were supposed to head out too, but...”

“We just wanted to enjoy our time here a little more,” said Ash, quietly. 

“We didn’t really get a chance to come back for a long time since the monsters showed up,” continued Manny. “I can’t lie, I was scared it would be totally gone by the time we got back...”

“But people are rebuilding,” said Viola. “It’s wonderful to see. Even if Delphi never lived up to my level, I suppose everyone else deserves it...”

“And I...” started Ash, their voice wavering. “I wanted to... say hi to my mom...”

“Oh, that’s right,” said the Bard. “I forgot to ask Eyala about the ghosts!”

“Huh?”

“Nevermind,” they added quickly. “It’s good to see you, and I’m glad you’re taking time to rest. Miriam told me I should do the same, but...”

“You never did introduce us to Miriam,” said Manny. “Sapphire’s granddaughter, is she? We’d love to have her attend one of our concerts!”

“Maybe next time,” said the Bard. “She’s a bit grumpy right now.”

“Next time I’ll hold you to it!” said Manny. “Even if we have to make Sapphire bring her over!”

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” added Ash. 

“Go on," said Viola. “We’ll catch up with you eventually. You will sing again with us.”

“I will!” the Bard agreed.   
  


🎵  
  


The Bard went up and down town again until finally they found Miriam standing by the docks. She hadn’t been there before, when the Bard had checked earlier. Nor were the coffee pirates there either, to which the Bard’s heart sank.

“Why couldn’t she just have teleported us out, anyway?” said Miriam, looking out at the ocean, as if she could just tell the Bard was standing behind her.

“I thought you wanted me to rest.”

“I do, but I know you’re not the type to sit still,” she sighed. “I shouldn’t be the one holding you back, anyway. It’s like all I do is sit around and let everyone else figure things out for me...”

“Don’t say that, Miriam!” said the Bard. “You’re right. I should take it easy. But Eyala asked me to go, and...”

“What makes you think you should follow what she says, anyway?” said Miriam, turning around to face them, finally. “You know how well all that went last time.”

“I mean, she did tell me about the Earthsong, last time.”

“She was also the guide to the Hero, remember?”

It was like someone had dropped a bunch of ice cubes into hot tea. 

“Yeah, but... that part’s over now,” said the Bard, without much conviction.

“Sure.” Miriam looked away again. “But what if she’s just putting new rules in place for you to follow? After everything we had to go through just to break the very foundations of the universe, is it really as simple as ‘go here, sing a song’ all over again?”

“But!! Do you have any other ideas??”

“No. I’m just not into trusting what an Angel says about what should or shouldn’t happen.” She exhaled impatiently. “And anyway, there’s no pirates here to take us to Tatango this time, so I guess we’re stuck.”

“But what about flying...?”

“Not with you looking like you’re about to fall over at any second!”

“I’m fine!”

“I’m not risking it! Last thing I need is to fish you out of the middle of the ocean.” She shook her head, grumbling something unintelligible. The Bard swayed on their feet. They _were_ more invigorated, now with the prospect of a new adventure, but it was taking more than the average amount of energy to keep upright. 

“Wait,” said the Bard. “I have an idea!”

Miriam raised an eyebrow. “To get across the ocean?”

“It might work! Just come with me!”

The Bard set off at a fast clip, and Miriam scrambled after them.

“Manny!! Ash!! Viola!!” the Bard yelled, barging into the Crazy Raven. It was starting to get into mid-afternoon, and there wasn’t a terribly large amount of people in there. Actually, there were almost none. Only the aforementioned band members, and Whit and Alice.

“That was quick,” said Ash.

“Uh, yeah,” said the Bard sheepishly. “But hey, look! I brought Miriam!”

“So you’re the famous Miriam,” said Viola, in that particular voice she used—sweet, but with a hint of sour underneath. “Come to enjoy the show?”

“What,” said Miriam flatly.

“This is my band, Miriam!” the Bard waved their hands excitedly. 

“I could tell.” Miriam stood rooted to the spot.

“Ace! You brought her! Sapphire's granddaughter!” Manny looked like he could hardly contain himself.

“Please don’t get weird about it,” said Miriam. “How exactly does this help us, Kiwi?”

“They said they were about to leave town again!” they replied. “Maybe we can go with them!”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Ace!!” Manny was vibrating with excitement. 

“We’d love it if you joined us,” said Viola. 

“But you gotta pay up,” said Manny. “Perform with us tonight! Tomorrow morning we hit the road!”

“How does that sound, Miriam?” said the Bard, turning towards her.

Miriam hesitated, tapping her toe, although the Bard could tell she wasn’t nearly as irritated as she normally was.

“...Fine,” she said, at length. 

“That’s what I'm talkin’ about, Ace!!! Tonight we’ll put on a show the likes a’which they’ll never forget!!”

“That’s exactly what you said last time...” said Ash.

“Come now, let’s rehearse!” said Viola. 

Miriam stood in a corner of the room while they rehearsed. Then she stood in a corner of the room while they performed. The venue wasn’t quite as crowded this time around, but it was just as enthusiastic: probably because everyone needed a chance to blow off some steam, after everything that had happened to the town in recent times. 

The Bard was focused on the show—but out of the corner of their eye, they spied a smile from Miriam.

🎶

The next morning, they took a boat to Tatango, which unfortunately was not a pirate ship. 

They weren’t able to disembark at the island as soon as they arrived. The archipelago had been overtaken by a tropical storm. Everyone sat inside the boat, safe from the weather outside—and Miriam, in her typical fashion, had found a corner to isolate herself in.

The Bard came by and sat with her. This time they chose not to say anything. It hadn’t gone over well the first time, and even though they were much closer now, the Bard didn’t want to bother her. Still, the silent company was nice. 

“What’s that?” Miriam finally spoke—the first words in several hours—when the Bard pulled out the lollipop they suddenly remembered they had in their pocket.

“I picked it up in Delphi!” they said pleasantly. “Oh, but I only have one...”

“That’s okay, I—”

“You can have it! I promise I haven’t licked it!”

Miriam took the candy that had been shoved into her hands and stared at it. Then, after a beat, snapped it in half.

“There. Easy.” She handed the other half back to the Bard, who accepted it with delight.

“Wow! That was cool, Miriam!”

“That was silly, is what it was. Ugh, you’re rubbing off on me.” Miriam sucked on her half of the lollipop aggressively. 

They each ate their candy for another period of silence, and Miriam finally seemed to perk up.

“So that was your band, was it?” She was watching them as they fiddled with their instruments on the other side of the boat. It was not a very large boat. “They’re all right.”

“I know they liked you! You don’t have to downplay it.”

A clap of thunder rocked the boat, even louder than the roaring winds outside, and both shuddered with a shared sensory memory. Miriam shook her head.

“I was just thinking. About... what it was like, before any of this ever happened.” She drew her knees up and rested her chin on them. “I was so rude to you and you stuck with me anyway.”

“Well, I really wanted to help you!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t even try to help _you_ , is what I’m saying.” Miriam buried her face even further. “I don’t even know how you managed to find that Overseer Song.”

“Ash knew it,” said the Bard. “They learned it from their mom, who was a ghost, who I had to fetch from the graveyard, who convinced them to play in the band....”

Miriam was staring at them. Ash was too, because again, it wasn’t a very large boat, and everyone was stuck inside it. 

“...and then the concert was that same night, so I didn't know what the actual song was, but we had so much fun improvising it anyway...” the Bard babbled on.

“That sounds so convoluted, no wonder you had to be the one to figure it out.” She sighed and leaned back. “It’s so weird to think about it, though. I was so scared. I had no idea if I’d ever see Delphi again. To tell you the truth, I don’t think I would have left if it weren’t for you...”

“That’s some heavy stuff you're talking about there,” interjected Manny. “I guess you knew all along we’d be in hot potatoes. You did well leaving when you did.”

Miriam bristled at the interruption. “Ugh, there I go again, venting about my stupid problems.”

“It’s not stupid, Miriam!” the Bard gasped. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize how hard it was for you!”

“It must not have been easy to take on that responsibility,” said Viola. “We’re grateful for all you did.”

“Don’t flatter me,” she snapped, “Kiwi did all the important stuff, anyway.”

“Miriam...”

“And then, after all that, an angel shows up to tell us there’s even more crap we have to fix!”

The Bard glanced between Miriam and the rest of the band helplessly. Then they raised their hands in the most diplomatic gesture they could manage.

“I think you need rest, Miriam,” they suggested as gently as they could.

“....Sorry," she muttered. “You’re fine. I’m just exhausted. And I’m sick of this neverending rain.”

“Let’s just try to get some sleep for tonight," said Ash. “Hopefully, tomorrow the weather will clear up.”

“Whatever,” said Miriam.

🎶

The next morning brought clearer weather, and bidding their goodbyes to the band, the Bard and Miriam made their way to the Nexus Point.

“Lil’ B! Lil’ Mim!”

“—Don’t call me that—”

“You finally made it!” Eyala, who was already hovering in front of the Lost Waterfall, greeted them with a girlish giggle. “You can go ahead and, like, sing the song now!”

“I thought the song was for summoning you?” said the Bard, nevertheless taking position in front of the Waterfall. The water was cool, and tingled with the faint remnants of the Spirit World, but like the previous two nexus points, it felt noticeably subdued.

“It was,” she said nonchalantly. “But it also could be for calibrating the Nexus Points. Easy, right?”

“Too easy,” said Miriam, standing just outside of the water. 

“It can’t hurt to try, Miriam!” said the Bard. Eyala nodded in approval.

“That’s the spirit! Ready whenever you are, Lil’ B!”

The Bard sang the song for Queen Chaos—what a weird ditty, though appropriate for its namesake. A namesake the Bard never was able to meet. Singing it again now was off-putting, at odds with reality.

Nothing appeared to change when it was done, though, save for Miriam’s annoyance increasing by two levels.

“What a weird song,” she said. “So did that do it?” she asked Eyala, unimpressed.

“I don’t know!”

“What do you mean, you don’t know!?” Miriam protested. “You’re the angel here!”

“Well...” Eyala was silent for just a moment too long. “Well, yeah, but we’ve never done anything like this before. I can’t really tell from this side. I would need to go backstage again...”

“Let me guess, we have to meet you at the next Nexus Point,” said Miriam.

“Oh, I could take you there, this time,” said Eyala.

“Well why didn’t you last time then!?”

“To be honest, I just forgot you couldn’t teleport with me,” she explained. Miriam groaned.

“But now we can just go, right?” asked the Bard. “See, Miriam? It’ll be way easier this way!”

“Sure, take us to Chismest,” said Miriam, and with that the Bard’s expression immediately faltered.

“Yeah, didn’t think we’d be going back there so soon, did ya?” said Miriam, though not in a very mean sort of way.

“It’s okay,” said the Bard. “We gotta do what we gotta do. Let’s go, Eyala!”

“Right on!” said Eyala, and in a flash, the three were gone.

**//**


	4. Uncertainty

🎼

It was not terribly cold in Chismest. Compared to Mt. Ichor, it was spring weather. It also helped that there was much less smog blocking the sun, although the air was still fairly pungent. 

“Okay,” said the Bard as soon as they had landed out in the field, in front of the Nexus Point. “Guess I’ll just get it over with and you can see if it worked then.”

“You can’t,” said Miriam. “Look at the sky.”

All three looked up at the sky in unison.

“Oh,” said the Bard, recognizing the problem immediately.

The problem was that it was noon, and thus there were no lights in the sky.

“Yeah, this one’s gonna take a while,” said Eyala. “Why don’t you two go have fun in town, I’ll go check things out in the Spirit World and we can meet up again tonight?”

“ _Have fun,_ huh,” said Miriam disdainfully. The Bard couldn’t help but agree.

“Well, I guess we don’t have a choice,” they said. At least, if nothing else, they were in a good enough mood this time around. 

🎶

The problem was that there really wasn’t much to _do_ in Chismest. The town had, for the most part, escaped the generalized chaos of the end of the world, and thus there wasn’t much physical damage to speak of, but that didn’t mean they weren’t still rebuilding in other ways. The closure of the factory had shaken up the foundations of the town's social dynamics in a way that left everyone drifting somewhat aimlessly, trying to fill the absence it had created before the new laboratory was ready to open. There was an atmosphere of hope, but also of deep uncertainty as to what was to come.

And, as far as the Bard was concerned, it was too soon to think about that, at least when it came to their hometown. They tried their best at all times. It was their driving principle, to spread joy and music wherever they went, but there was something about this town that wore down on their confidence even when they were in good spirits. In Chismest, it always felt as though “their best” wasn’t good enough.

“You grew up here, huh,” said Miriam, as the two stood in front of the building formerly known as the Happy Factory. She had made her displeasure for Chismest clearly known, but never really pried into what the Bard’s relationship to their hometown was like, aside from trying to coax them into cooperating when they had been on a much stricter time limit.

“Mm,” said the Bard. It was a gnawing feeling. At some point, sure, they’d have to come back and see their mom, hopefully under better circumstances. But they’d hoped to at least put some distance between them and the memories they had of this place first.

“That explains so much,” said Miriam. “I was so busy thinking of stopping the Hero last time, I never really thought about what it must have been like for you here.”

“We don’t really need to talk about that,” said the Bard, who was starting to get antsy—and that energy had to come out _somehow_. Their feet were already starting to twitch.

“Geez,” said Miriam. “So what are we doing now? Are you gonna visit your mom?”

The Bard aggressively danced their feelings away.

“I guess,” they said. “Miriam, I don’t really know how to say this, but...”

“What?” She was looking at them with concern.

“I’m supposed to... uh... _meet my dad_.”

“Huh?”

“My dad. Came back. Supposedly.” Their dancing would have been funny, if it weren’t also so fretful. “And when we stopped by, a few days ago, mom told me we should have dinner as a family again.”

Miriam gave them the long stony look of someone who was struggling to wrap their mind around the situation.

“That’s so freaking weird,” she said.

“So... that’s what we’re doing, I guess,” said the Bard. There was a particular kind of discomfort that only really happened when one was both physically wrung out and emotionally unprepared for some weird crap to go down, and the Bard was feeling it. 

Miriam kicked a pebble in front of them on the road. “Eh,” she said finally. “I’ll be there with you.”

“Thanks, Miriam,” said the Bard.

Each footstep towards their family’s house was agonizing, and not just because of their injuries. It felt like they were being pulled sideways in two different directions, like tectonic plates chafing against each other. It hurt to walk that way, and more and more they were feeling like they should have just stayed home to rest longer before jumping right into yet another journey. 

However, lacking any excuse not to go do it, they went forth anyway.

They knocked on the door, and the Bard’s mother answered with a delighted, “HELLO, Muffin!”

“Hi mom!” said the Bard, smiling in a way that totally wasn’t strained at all.

“And you brought your friend Miriam, too! How sweet!” she said.

“Hey,” said Miriam.

“We were just passing by,” said the Bard, trying to not sound like they were going to spontaneously combust at any second. “But as long as we were here, I thought we should... er...”

“Yes, of course, Muffin!” said the Bard's mother. “Your father is home! Please, do come in, we can all have dinner together! You too, Miriam!”

They entered, and inside the living room, a man’s presence loomed large. The sofa was far too small for him, made minuscule by his shape. 

The Bard stared at the Baron.

The Baron stared at the Bard.

The silence felt like a discordant fermata.

“.......Hi dad,” said the Bard, at last. They were smiling. It was totally easy to smile at a situation like this. Perfectly normal and pleasant to smile and say hi to your dad who you only just found out was your dad because you haven’t seen each other in twenty years. This is absolutely fine.

The Baron did not say a single word.

“Oh, Cupcake,” said the Bard’s mother to the Baron. “Don’t be shy! Our child came all the way here just to see you!”

 _I absolutely did not_ , thought the Bard, but repressed actually saying it with the practiced ease of someone who was very, very determined to be polite and friendly to literally everybody on the entire planet. Including absentee dads who had gotten obsessed with making toys in a factory to the point of almost destroying a whole town. This was Totally And Completely Fine.

“Good evening,” said the Baron, finally.

“Good evening? Really? That’s all you have to say?” said Miriam.

“It’s okay, Miriam, I don’t mind,” the Bard said. It wasn’t as if _they_ had anything better to say, either. Their first instinct was something along the lines of ‘nice to meet you’, but somehow that felt inappropriate here.

“It’s good to see you,” said the Baron. His voice was very soft—not in the sense that it was friendly, but in the sense that he barely raised his voice at all to say that.

“Good to see you too,” said the Bard. They tried to mean it. They really did. But it felt just as uncanny as the morning after the not-the-end. Nothing was quite real yet—and this, least of all.

“It’s so wonderful to have you two together with me again, at long last!” said the Bard's mother. “We can have a proper dinner, as a family!”

“We can’t stay very long, though,” said Miriam. She was leaning against the doorframe, cool and distant. “We have important business to take care of.”

The Baron raised his head at this.

“Oh, you two always rushing about!” the Bard's mother said. “Muffin, you really ought to stay longer next time!”

“Next time,” said the Bard unconvincingly.

🎵

They took their spots around the dinner table. The Bard’s mother chattered away, making pleasant dinnertime conversation. The Bard took after her, it seemed. Or at least, they did, when they weren’t struggling with keeping their thoughts in order now that they knew _the Baron was their dad._

Miriam, seated next to them, also didn’t say much. Her eyes kept darting towards the Baron, though, as if challenging him to try her patience. Internally, the Bard begged her not to start anything.

There was no incident to worry about, however, until the conversation turned to her.

“It’s so good to have you as our guest again, Miriam,” said the Bard's mother. “Cupcake, did you know? This young woman dropped off our Muffin after they’d been hit by lightning! And not only that, she was so busy trying to find the Overseer Song—remember that? I sang it to you every night, Muffin, you never wanted me to stop...”

“Oh,” said the Bard, as a thought finally clicked into place. “That’s right, Miriam. You found the song all on your own. How did that go?”

Miriam grimaced. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Oh my dear, it was nothing like that!” the Bard's mother continued. “She came by, all cooly, asking about you every day. I offered her to stay but she wouldn’t bother me, she said...”

“I was asking people all over town, but nobody would give me the time of day,” said Miriam tapping her fingers on the table irritably. “Nobody even knew what an Overseer is, can you believe that? And here I was, like an idiot, asking about a stupid song nobody knew, and they'd look at me like I was crazy!”

“Whoah,” said the Bard. “And you did all that while I was moping in my room?”

“Don't be so hard on yourself, Muffin!” the Bard's mother chuckled. “You’re my little ray of sunshine. I can’t bear to see you frown like that!”

“Anyway, yeah,” Miriam continued, ignoring the interruption, “I dropped by, hoping you’d be able to help me, and on a whim I asked your mom...”

“It’s old knowledge, Miriam,” said the Bard's mother. “My own mother used to sing it to me, when I was a little girl. She told me it was a song that would transform the uncertain. I never knew what she meant by that, but I remembered she said it belonged to the Overseer, centuries ago...”

“I never knew that either!” said the Bard. “How come you never told me, mom?”

“Oh, it must have slipped my mind! Doohoohoo!”

Miriam had been glancing at the Baron throughout the entire story. He never said a peep, but instead shuffled in his seat, here and there.

“What about you, Muffin?” the Bard's mother continued. “What did you use it for? What could be so uncertain, that you would need that song to transform it?”

“Uh,” the Bard grasped for words. “The world was ending?”

“Ah, indeed it was,” said the Bard's mother. “My little hero. So brave you are, Muffin.”

“Speaking of which,” they said, rising from their chair abruptly. “It’s dark enough now, right Miriam? We have to go.”

“Yep. Gotta go. It’s as important as saving the world.” Miriam also got up quickly. 

“Leaving so soon?” the Bard's mother pouted. “We miss you so much! Cupcake, tell them!”

“Come back anytime,” said the Baron, heavily. 

“Uh... sure!” said the Bard. They smiled. It was totally easy to smile.

🎵

“Sprout.”

The Bard and Miriam had just reached the front doorway when the voice caught their attention and they spun around to face the source. It was the Baron, looming large in the hallway, some distance away.

“Huh?” said the Bard as they turned around.

“Sprout,” the Baron repeated. “It’s what I used to call you, when you were a baby.”

The Bard did not remember that.

“What do you want?” asked Miriam abrasively. The Bard glanced between her and the Baron, unsure of which to focus on.

“Miriam, could you wait for me at the Nexus Point?” they said out of their corner of their mouth, finally settling on facing the Baron.

Miriam did not leave right away. “Kay," she said, looking doubtful. She peeled away slowly, mumbling, “If that's what you want.”

Once she was gone, the Bard looked at the Baron. He was like a mountain emerging on the horizon: something that only seemed small purely by virtue of how distant it was, and once he began to move forward, the perspective shifted. 

The Bard had gained some experience with mountains, recently.

“My factory shut down,” said the Baron, ponderously.

“I was there,” said the Bard, impassive.

“I thought long and hard,” said the Baron, speaking in even, measured syllables, as though he were reciting something he’d rehearsed ahead of time. “About why. When all I wanted was to bring joy to people, and somehow, joy passed me by.”

As he spoke he moved forward, like a glacier cutting through stone.

“I don’t know that I’ve found any answers,” he said as he reached where the Bard stood. Somehow, this encounter felt intense, much more so than the one back at the factory. Everything held too much meaning, now. “But, before I handed it off to that scientist, I used it one last time.”

The Baron extended a large boulder of a fist, aged in its creases, rough in a way the Bard couldn’t recognize themself in. But they held out their own palm in response, and into it dropped a small metallic object. The Baron, having released the item, took a step back.

The Bard looked down at the offering in their hand. It was a brooch shaped like a flower, its eight petals surrounding a small brass circle, each colorized a different hue, forming a simple rainbow. Running their thumb along the bumpy outer edge, they found the petals spun around the center. 

“Your mother told me you liked flowers,” said the Baron. “It has been a long time since I last crafted something with my own two hands.”

The Bard couldn’t take their eyes off the little flower. It was very cute, exactly the kind of thing they liked to wear. How could the Baron know that?

“I hope this brings you some joy, that I was unable to bring the people of this town.”

The Bard looked up at the Baron’s unreadable face.

“Thank you,” they said. And then, after a long and very slightly less awkward pause, “I have to go now.”

“Goodbye, Sprout.”  
  


🎵

In their entire life, the Bard had only seen the Annual Lights twice. The first time had been just before entering the Orderscape; The second time was now, trodding through the slushy fields of the outskirts where Miriam stood waiting. To think such stunning beauty had been there all along, smothered behind impenetrable blankets of smog, and they had never even known it existed. 

But now, in the sky, only a faint remnant of that beauty remained. Glowing embers on a dying campfire, they flickered feebly in the dark, surrounded by blazing newborn stars. There had once been an energy that flowed here from earth to sky. Now it felt like a hum from underground, like turning cogs made rough with rust.

“Eyala’s not here yet?” they observed as they arrived at the meeting place.

“Probably ditched us again, huh,” snarked Miriam.

“No!!” the Bard exclaimed. “She’s probably just busy with angel stuff in the Spirit World!”

“Spirit World, Shmirit World,” said Miriam. “So are you gonna sing or what?”

“Yeah, of course!”

Out of all the Overseer songs, this one was the most familiar, the most intimate of them all. How strange it was that this lullaby they'd known their whole life had been hiding secrets from them. Leave it to Miriam to discover those secrets.

But, once the song was over, nothing happened.

“You feel that?” said Miriam, as the biting breeze blew snowflakes about their ankles.

“No?”

“That’s called déjà vu.”

“That’s mean, Miriam,” the Bard said, but couldn't help but crack a smile. “What do you think happened?”

“Whatever it is, I doubt Eyala will tell us.” She continued to tap her foot. “She seems determined to keep us out of the loop, again.”

“She’ll be here soon! She was late that time, too...”

“Yeah, that just proves my point, though!” Miriam exhaled heavily. “Anyway, what’s that look for?”

“Nothing?”

“Don’t give me that. I know you well enough. Was it the Baron? Did he upset you?”

The Bard fiddled with the brooch in their palm, the outer circle spinning under their thumb. They thought about the last time they'd stood here, squaring up to face a world that did not want them; the lightning scar still stung, a memory fresh in the flesh. 

“It’s not like that,” they shook their head. “It went better than it could have. It’s just...”

They looked up at the feeble trace of the Annual Lights above.

“...I don’t think I can tell you how I’m feeling. I’m not sure if I even know _what_ I’m feeling.”

Miriam seemed to consider this at length, and then nodded.

“Tell ya what," she said. “Why don’t you sing?”

Well, that just made much more sense, now didn’t it? “Of course,” they agreed, and took a deep breath.

Note by note, the Bard's tangled up feelings unraveled into strands of wordless melody. Singing was soothing, even if there weren’t words to describe that which they couldn’t even identify. Music was translation, and the Bard simply let the meaning pass through their lungs, the medium and the message, never thinking so much as feeling. So many times they had done this to other people’s threads, weaving their hearts’ wishes into songs so naturally it seemed almost deceptively simple, but to share their own desires… it wouldn’t do to dwell on them, to think too hard about what to say. So wordless melody would have to suffice.

And then, just like that, it was over, the sounds disappearing into the stillness of the night. The silence lingered there, in contemplative contrast. In the absence left by the song’s conclusion, chirping crickets and rustling leaves filled the air. The Bard looked at Miriam, who was watching them with a softness that was so rare in its intensity, it made them almost self-conscious.

“Um… so, I guess that’s about it,” they said. Miriam didn't reply right away. Her gaze was distant, her body so still she looked almost frozen, transfixed by something which enthralled her mind.

“Miriam?” the Bard prodded further. She snapped to attention.

“Huh, yeah,” she said, absently. “So that’s how you feel.”

“You understood me?”

“Course I did. Isn't that your whole thing?” Miriam tried to look dismissive, and failed.

The Bard softened. “Thank you, Miriam.” They hesitated before adding, “For a second there, I thought maybe I’d done something wrong…”

“What, really?” Miriam looked almost offended at the suggestion. “No way. I told you to sing and you sang, right? I got what I wanted.” Then, realizing what she’d just said, she caught herself, and blushing, opened her mouth to continue—

“Heyyyy you twoooo,” said Eyala, materializing before them and making the shape of a heart with both her voice and her hands.

“Did it work?” Miriam wasted no time demanding.

“Did what work—”

“The Overseer Song we sang like a whole half hour ago!”

“Oh.” Eyala paused for a beat. “Nope.”

“What!?” two voices exclaimed, one significantly more outraged than the other.

“Yeah, actually, none of the Overseer Songs are working,” Eyala shrugged.

“Ughhhhhh!!! What is even the point of all this!!!” Miriam screamed, looking like she was about to tear her hair out. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner!? How much longer were you planning to string us along for???”

“It’s not like that!” Eyala tried to pacify. “I had to be sure first! I told you I had to check things out on the other side!”

“So what happened?” the Bard interjected.

“It’s like I said, this is all, like, new territory for us?” said Eyala. “We’ve never had a situation like this before. We tried setting things up the same way as always, but it didn’t work.”

“But what does that _mean?_ ” Miriam insisted.

“I wish it were easier to put this into Normie Terms…” Eyala muttered, looking away. “I’m not really supposed to do this, but Eya _did_ ask me to keep an eye on you two, after all…”

She unclasped her hands and offered one to each mortal. Miriam reluctantly extended hers, and the Bard, with just a little less hesitation, took the other—and, as soon as their hands touched, blacked out instantly.

**//**


	5. Seed

🎼

When the Bard came to, they were standing somewhere eerily familiar. The smoky rose-violet glow, the backdrop of falling stars, the way everything felt just slightly off-center… the most familiar thing, perhaps, was the vibration; everything vibrated, the ground, the air, the Bard's body all the way up to their chest. It was like standing inside the sounding box of an instrument being played. 

“What the heck? Where are we?” Miriam was griping next to them. Her voice echoed disconcertingly around them, even though there were no surfaces to echo off of. 

“The Spirit World?” offered the Bard, trying to place the familiar feeling.

“Nooot quite,” said Eyala. “This is actually more like a maintenance shaft between worlds.”

Miriam’s gaze swept over the space until it landed on something that caught her attention—and, following it, the Bard saw it too—shining in the distance.

“Is that—Is that the _Hero’s Sword!?!?_ ”

“Oh… you can just go ahead and ignore that,” Eyala shrugged dismissively. When it became clear that the two _weren’t_ , in fact, going to ignore it, she waved a hand at it and the sword disappeared with a flash and a puff of yellow smoke.

It was then the Bard realized what was so familiar: namely, that the persistent ache of their injuries was gone now, replaced with a floaty incorporeality, and the half-faded memory emerged...

“Miriam!! I think we’re dreaming!!”

“What!?” Miriam spun around to face Eyala. “You _put us to sleep!?_ ”

“Yeeeeeah, I’m _really_ not supposed to do that, but with the Nexus Points not working, it was the closest I could get to showing you the other side.”

“You left our bodies lying out in the freezing mud!”

“I’m sorry! Normally mortals can’t get in here, not unless I open the dream channel. That’s how we perform the hero test! But obviously we’re not doing that right now. Don’t worry, though, I’ll make sure you’re safe when you wake up!”

“Wow, I feel reassured.”

“So, um,” the Bard chimed in, “now that we’re here, what do we do?”

"Oh yes! Look here!" Eyala waved her hand again. 

In a moment, everything around them shifted—the colors, the lights, even the vibration itself, like the swell of a wave passing through them. The sky, or what appeared to be the sky anyway, shimmered like light reflecting off the surface of the ocean—or maybe it was more like rolling sand dunes—or maybe it was something else entirely. Little falling stars criss-crossed them, leaving trails of colors in their wake.

“Whoah…” said the Bard.

“What is that?” said Miriam

“That’s the Universe!” said Eyala. “Or what you can see of it, anyway. This stuff’s, like, _beyond_ human comprehension.” 

“Figures,” said Miriam. 

“Everything that exists passes through here! Spirit World, Physical World, Overseers... it’s all just one big thing, made of the same stuff. When the world is ending—” 

“Yeah yeah, can we just skip the recap and get to the part where you _tell us why we’re here?_ ”

Eyala waved, and the image unraveled, like a tapestry being pulled apart. Strands threaded all around them, oscillating in big waves. 

“I’ve spent the last few days back here, lookin’ at this from all these different angles,” she said, unperturbed. “It’s like, no matter what I do, the pieces just don’t fit together. It doesn’t make sense. You see what I’m saying, right, Lil’ B?” 

The Bard was surprised to find they did, in fact, see it. Watching each thread, each surface, each point vibrate and waver and blink, the Bard started to understand. Inside them, the Earthsong pulsed, the energy of the universe flowing through them as they watched creation itself resonate— 

“It’s music,” they said. “When we sang our song, and Eya sang hers…” 

“Yeah! That was so dope!” Eyala nodded. 

“But, those threads aren’t moving?” 

“Bingo!” she said, entirely too cheerful. “This is how we’re supposed to connect the Nexus Points. As long as everything’s synced up together, they’re the bridge in and out of the Spirit World. But Eya can only move half of it…” 

“...because we sang the other half,” completed Miriam. 

“You’re so smart!” Eyala giggled. 

“Don’t patronize me.”

“But that means we’re the only ones who can fix it!” said the Bard. 

“I mean, that’s what I was hoping,” said Eyala. “Eya sent me looking for you. She said, ‘I’ve only ever performed solo! I’ve never had backup singers before! That's hella rad!’” 

“Is that really what Eya sounds like...?” muttered Miriam. 

“That’s what I said too!” said the Bard. 

“...but y’know, my idea didn’t pan out. The Overseer Songs didn’t do anything. So now it’s all kind of up to you, really.” 

“Up to us, huh?” Miriam turned to the Bard. “Kiwi, got any ideas?”

The Bard watched the threads, and with each wave the energy would surge inside them; the way they shimmered and reacted felt so real, even if they were, technically, inside a dream… it felt more real, somehow, than anything else in the Physical World. 

“Well…” they started. There _had_ to be an answer, right? If everything in the Universe still existed now, it was only because they had found a way to harmonize. Not just the Bard: Miriam, too, and all their friends, and all the life on the planet. And if half of it wasn’t moving anymore, there had to be a reason for it… 

Miriam was staring at them again, eyes filled with stars, expression resolved and unyielding. Behind her, the Universe glowed.

“...I’m not sure,” they admitted. “But I think we have to keep singing!”

“I knew you would say that,” she said.

“We’ll figure it out! We saved the world together, right? Even though it had never been done before?"

"That’s exactly why we’re counting on you~" said Eyala.

And then, everything fell apart.

🎶

“Boss!!”

The Bard awoke somewhere that was most definitely not the muddy field they had been in previously, only to see two very distressed witches fawning over them and Miriam.

“Oh, not this again,” groaned Miriam.

“Whoah! Sorry for interrupting your date!” Vivian said. Miriam sat up like a bullet.

“Do we look like we’re on a date!? We’re covered in mud!”

They were, in fact, covered in mud. They were also now in the Sky Temple, which with its absence of mud, made the situation all the more baffling. 

“What are you guys doing here?” said the Bard, sitting up with considerable effort now that they were once again aware of all their aches and pains. 

“ _Rebuilding!!_ ” the two Spell Squad witches declared, striking a pose. 

“More like _we’re_ rebuilding,” said a sour voice from somewhere behind them. Miriam and the Bard turned to see Ping there, along with Phil beside him.

“And you guys as well!” the Bard exclaimed.

“That’s right, Wayfarer,” said Phil. “They called us in from Lumber Town, y’see? We brought over the materials for the reconstruction.”

“I don’t see why we have to work with _witches_ , though.”

“Hey man, I said there’s no need for that kinda attitude!”

“They’re such a drag to work with,” Vivian whispered. 

“We’re doing our best, though!” Sandra added brightly. “The Queen thought we should collaborate with them!”

“Sounds fun,” said Miriam. 

“I still don't trust ’em,” said Ping.

“They’re not so bad! Just look at our witch friend Miriam!” said Phil.

“Who said I’m your friend!?”

The Bard shuffled uncomfortably. “Miriam, you don’t have to rile them up…”

“The war being over doesn’t make us all best friends now,” Miriam argued.

“It might be years and years before we all get along,” Vivian agreed.

“You still have to make the effort though!” said the Bard, caught between both groups.

“If the Hero were here she’d sort this out in a flash,” Ping continued. “Where did she even disappear to, anyway?”

“Uh,” the Bard was at a loss for words. 

“Not that she did that much to help us during the war,” said Sandra. “But the world did get saved after all, so I’m sure she did _something_...”

“It really wasn't like...” the Bard tried to explain as the arguing continued. “Well, I tried, but...”

But, even in peacetime, the rebuilding of the temple strained under years of pressure.

“Hey now, this is no time to fight,” said Phil. “That’s all behind us now, man! We oughta look to the future. Make new connections, nurture new possibilities! Isn’t that right, Wayfarer?”

“Y-yeah! That's right!” they agreed. The Sky Temple, after all, was the place for unions to happen. Sun and Moon, Rulle and Chaandesh, the Bard and Miriam… Not without effort, without discomfort or struggle, but things came together, if given the opportunity.

Then again, it was also here that they parted ways, and pain had its permanence, too.

“Hey, if you’re willing, we’re willing,” said Vivian. Sandra nodded enthusiastically.

“Just because it’s new, doesn’t mean it has to be bad!” she added. 

“Ping?” said Phil, turning towards him with a gleeful smile.

“....Fine,” he said, clearly displeased. “If it means we can get this over with and get out of here.”

Vivian stepped forward and extended her hand, and Phil took it and shook it. 

“Let’s get on with the work, man!” he said. “Tomorrow is in our hands!”

“Or, the tools are, anyway,” said Sandra, picking up a wooden board.

🎵

The two pairs of former enemies continued to chatter and work, but the Bard was no longer listening. Standing inside the ruined Sky Temple, the weight of their endeavours pressed upon them, preoccupying their thoughts with the task they were newly responsible for.

They'd come here to find a song and ended up stopping a war, but not without witnessing how much it had cost. Not just witnessed: _experienced_ , raking up every single hurting soul inside their own, amplifying their whispers into bellows.

It had been involuntary, and yet, impossible if not for its intentionality—to gather the courage to demand something _better than the status quo_ , even if it meant achieving it by the skin of their teeth.

Yet, clearly, there was more to saving the world than just that. The Earth kept turning, people kept living, and the scars, whether deep or shallow, remained...

“Kiwi, come here,” said Miriam, breaking into their thoughts, taking their hand and tugging them away from the group. "Let's get out of here."

“Huh?” the Bard said, mildly confused, as she pulled out her broom. “But you said you didn't want to fly me...”

“It’s okay, just hang on tight,” she said, hopping on. “We’re not going very far.”

The Bard glanced at the temple one last time, and then got on the broom—all at once, overcome with this strange familiarity, something they hadn't even been aware they missed so much already. They wrapped their arms carefully around Miriam's waist, anchoring themself to get the most amount of balance.

“You alright back there?” said Miriam.

“Yeah,” said the Bard. Miriam nodded, gripped the handle tight, and kicked off into the sky.

**//**


	6. And The World Is Perfect

They flew due south, passing over neither Rulle nor Chaandesh, and not heading towards any other Nexus Point either. The cool wind whipped past them as the late afternoon sun cast orange rays through the clouds, punctuating them with bright beams of light. It was exhilarating; the Bard hummed a cheerful tune, buoyant and lilting. A short while later, Miriam descended somewhere unfamiliar.

They touched down in the middle of a meadow covered in low-lying grass and dotted with tiny flowers of all colors. Little bees buzzed about, dancing in the wind amongst the butterflies. It was quiet and serene, and at the same time filled with vital energy.

"Wow, Miriam!" said the Bard twirling through the flowers. "How did you know about this place?"

"Saw it from the air when I was heading home, you know, back when..." she trailed off. "Just thought it looked like a place you'd like."

"I do like it!" The Bard dropped to the ground, landing cross-legged on the grass. Miriam knelt beside them. A bee landed on the hem of their capelet, and the Bard watched it as it crawled and sat on their shoulder. 

"I figured we should get away from Eyala and all that other crap for a bit," said Miriam. "I don’t like the way she treats you, you know.”

"Oh?"

“Like you’re supposed to have all the answers, or something. Isn’t that kind of the point? None of us know what the heck we’re doing.”

“Oh.”

Miriam sighed a deep, resigned breath, and pulled out her piccolo. "Grandma Saphy gave me this flute, years and years before we ever divinated the end of the world," she said, weighing it in her hand casually. "I never practiced it much. Wasn't any good at it. I'm not a musician, you know. I don't _get_ music like you do. To me it's all like math, or physics. I guess now I know it's magic too."

The Bard watched as she trailed her fingers across the length of it; its metal edges glimmered in the sunlight.

“I think maybe I always thought it was kind of pointless. Music isn’t really… a _thing_ , you know? That you can see and touch and hold. It’s not like when I make potions…”

“Or when you blow stuff up!” said the Bard.

Miriam chuckled. “Yeah, that too. That stuff’s just _there_ , it exists no matter what. But music…”

She held the flute in front of her face.

“Of course, I did have to learn to play this, once we decided we needed to talk to the Overseers. It’s kinda fun, I guess. But maybe I was stupid to think I was cut out for this.”

“Miriam, that’s not true!” 

She shook her head. “The entire world is made of music, and I don’t understand any of it, not like you do. You understood it so well, you became part of the Earth itself. And I had a lot of time to think about it. This whole time, I’ve been thinking about it. And I don’t want to say I’ve had some sort of revelation, because I haven’t, but… I think… maybe I don’t _need_ to get it.”

She stared at the flute, hesitant, holding her breath—then, slowly, brought it to her lips.

The melody was simple, unadorned; sweet and inexperienced, occasionally hitting a flat note, she played gently, far more gently than her usual persona would suggest. The Bard swayed to the notes, tender with sincerity, their heart stirring with the sound of that flute—and the song tumbled out from within them, matching words to her music in an improvised duet.

The last note of Miriam’s flute hung in the air, piercing it decisively, even as the Bard’s voice fell away. But the silence that followed wasn’t awkward or empty; it was filled with a luminous euphoria, and two friends in perfect tune. Something had changed, too; the uncanny, sideways feeling chased away, replaced with something meaningful, and real.

Miriam was still hesitant; it wasn’t like her to be so vulnerable, but that was okay, too. Not everything had to be—

"Lil' B! Lil' Mim!!" Eyala shouted, appearing out of nowhere and breaking the moment.

"Why do you always have to interrupt—!?"

"Come on!! We have to hurry!"

"Why?" the Bard jumped up to their feet, alarmed. 

"The Spirit World!" Eyala yelled. "There's an opening! Come on! I promise I won't put you to sleep this time!!"

Before either of them could even agree to anything, she had grabbed both their hands and zapped them to the Spirit World.

🎵

The Spirit World felt as it should, but looked incredibly different. The falling stars were there, but everything was an array of colors, a white glow full of rainbows. Most surprisingly, standing all around them in a circle were all the new Overseers. The Bard gasped recognizing the fairies they once were.

"Uh.. why are you all here?" asked Miriam, bluntly as always. "Shouldn't you be in your castles, or something?"

"Oh, yeah, probably!" said the new Queen of Hearts. 

"Meow would love to be enjoying a catnap right about now," said the Dream Queen.

"Sorry, sorry!" said Eyala. "I bent things around just a bit, but this is really important!"

“It better be,” said Miriam. 

“Did you fix the Nexus Points??” asked the Bard.

“I lined them all up! And the Overseers are linked up, too!”

“I’m sensing a _but_ , here,” said Miriam.

“Buuut…”

“And there it is.”

“Well, the Spirit World only opened for a second,” said Eyala. “The Overseer Songs still aren’t gonna work.” 

“Okay?? How does that change anything??”

“Because it was something you two did!” 

_“We didn’t do anything!”_

“No,” said the Bard. “I think I get it!”

Everyone looked at them. 

“Miriam, we wrote a song together!”

“Uh, yeah, I guess we _did_ do that...” 

“That’s the answer!” the Bard vibrated. “the old Overseer Songs aren’t working—we have to write new ones!”

“But the Nexus Points…” Eyala started, but the Bard continued.

“The Overseers are part of the world, right? The people are part of the world too! We can write new songs that connect them all together!”

“Are you sure you can do that?” said Miriam.

“No,” said the Bard. “but it doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to exist!”

“Oh my gosh, you two!” said Eyala, brimming with glee. “I can’t believe how inspired you are!”

“Oh, please,” said Miriam.

“Miriam,” said the Bard, and she turned to them, looking like a cat caught doing something embarrassing.

“What?”

“I know you said you didn’t get it, but I think you do more than you know,” they said. 

“....if you say so,” she said. 

“So, um,” said the Moon King. “We’re getting new songs now?”

The Bard shook their head.

“We need time to write them,” they said. “And time to teach them to people.”

Eyala beamed. 

“There’s plenty of time for that, too!” she said. 

🎶

Eyala was kind enough to at least drop them off in front of Delphi, this time. Miriam, looking exhausted, stood in front of the door to her house, only not so tense as she had been, the last time they’d done this.

“...Grandma’s gonna wanna offer you to stay over, I’m sure.” she said, hand resting wearily against the doorjamb. 

“Only if you want me to,” said the Bard, smiling.

“I still don’t feel like I did anything,” she said. “Why do you keep giving me credit for these things?”

“Because,” said the Bard, “you were right about music. It isn’t like potions or explosions. It only exists while it’s being played. That’s why it matters so much. Music is an experience.”

She didn’t look convinced.

“That doesn’t mean I know what I’m doing,” she said.

“None of us do,” said the Bard.

“Okay, actually,” she said. “Looking at you is painful right now. We can go write new songs or whatever, but promise me one thing first?”

“Yes?”

“Come in and get some rest.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I would love to hear your thoughts, so please, don't be shy to leave your feedback!  
> I didn't get as much time to edit this as I normally do with my fics, so I might come back to it later and rewrite a couple of things, but the actual story should remain the same.


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